


Wingman

by romanfunkboy



Series: A collection of retro F1 one shots [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Confessions, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossdressing, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, M/M, Or an Attempt at Humor, Pining, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanfunkboy/pseuds/romanfunkboy
Summary: Gerhard was desperate to play wingman for his friend Ayrton, whether or not Ayrton likes it.
Relationships: Alain Prost/Ayrton Senna, Jean Alesi/Gerhard Berger (background)
Series: A collection of retro F1 one shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178750
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	Wingman

**Author's Note:**

> not beta-ed i banged this one out and impulsively wanted to post it asap. i'll read it thru l8ter and edit accordingly lol peace out

“Oh meu Deus.”

Ayrton had walked into absolute mayhem. Gerhard had asked him to come to his hotel room for a chat, a relaxed catch up session between two friends who hadn’t seen each other for a while from all the hectic pre-season obligations. If Ayrton was being honest, he was fully expecting to be pranked the moment he stepped foot into the room, but this was far from a prank. 

The room was crowded with drivers with varying states of drunkenness. His teammate Mika was there, the young boy’s pale face flushed but his demeanor surprisingly sober. Finnish stamina, Ayrton guessed. The Finn was currently pouring more alcohol into Johnny Herbert’s cup, the Brit looking a lot more tipsy. A tired looking Damon Hill sat in a corner, looking morosely at his empty bottle of beer, quietly complaining that no amount of alcohol can help him deal with whatever bullshit this was. In the middle of room stood Gerhard, Jean Alesi and Alain fucking Prost. At Ayrton’s voice, the three men whipped their heads around and they made the most absurd sight. Gerhard was holding up a one piece sundress, Jean Alesi in a fucking skirt and a tight crop top and Alain was only his boxers, currently fighting off the sundress Gerhard was forcing on him. 

“Where did you get those clothes?” Ayrton asked before he could help himself. Who cares where the hell they got the clothes, the more important question was what the fuck were they doing, why there was a room full of drunk racing drivers when this was supposed to be a private meeting between Gerhard and Ayrton, and how in the hell did Gerhard get Alain to be there, let alone almost naked in the middle of the room. 

“Why the hell is he here?” Alain hissed at Gerhard who ignored the angry Frenchman and continued trying to get the sundress on him. 

“Mika’s girlfriend, or ex girlfriend got furious that he cheated on her and stormed out. She flew off apparently and was so angry she forgot her suitcase in Mika’s room so we decided to have fun.” Jean explained, acting alarmingly nonchalant for a man in a skirt. 

Mika gave a thumbs up at Ayrton, a wry grin on his face. 

“Yes but why are you guys wearing her clothes?” 

“The Jean and the Alain are the only ones small enough to fit in her clothes,” Mika replied, ignoring the very drunk Johnny explaining to Mika that he didn’t need definite article ‘the’ before the names. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Ayrton said, stepping gingerly around the empty bottles of alcohol on the floor. 

He grabbed onto Gerhard’s arm and whispered harshly, jabbing a finger at Alain’s direction “Why is he here, drunk, naked and currently trying on a dress?!” 

Alain was more drunk than he let on, as he gave up the fight and Jean gleefully tugs the sundress down over his head. Unfortunately for Alain, he was petite enough to fit in the dress. 

“Oh fucking god,” Damon groaned in the background.

“Who, Alain?” Gerhard was clearly playing dumb. 

“Yes, Alain!” Ayrton tightened his hold on Gerhard and the Austrian winced a little. 

Since Alain took his sabbatical in 1992, he noticed Ayrton being more and more restless. At first he thought Ayrton had planned a huge revenge prank on him but after some needling, Ayrton reluctantly admitted that he was missing someone. After some more digging, relentless questioning and borderline blackmailing, Ayrton revealed he had missed Alain. The Brazilian insisted that he missed the challenge that the Frenchman gave on the track, and deflected any hints of anything remotely romantic. But Gerhard was not stupid. At least not that stupid. 

He noticed Ayrton watching French commentaries for the F1 races. 

“Since when did you learn French?” Gerhard teased and Ayrton glared at him. He chased him away but Gerhard caught the familiar smooth tones of a certain French driver from the speakers of the TV before the door slammed in his face. And then there was the hyperawareness Ayrton had of reporters on the grid during races. Ayrton would dart his eyes from reporter to reporter, seemingly looking for someone. He seemed to vibrate from the anticipation when he spotted the French reporters walking towards them, which included Alain Prost. Gerhard stared at Ayrton in mild incredulity as the man started to check his suit and hair, making sure he looked his best. Alain would spot Ayrton, awkwardly whisper something to his coworker and then walk away, leaving the other reporter to ask them questions. Ayrton would deflate and kick his shoes on the ground, half heartedly answering the questions with almost zero interest, his eyes never really leaving the retreating back of Alain. 

So when 1993 rolled around and Alain came back onto the grid, Gerhard devised a plan. And the plan got kind of hijacked. And then kind of went off track. Then it went really off track. Originally, Gerhard wanted to get Ayrton to come meet him under the pretense that it was just the two of them, then get Alain to meet before Ayrton arrived, and then lock them in the hotel room together. But the problem arose that Alain didn’t fully trust Gerhard enough to really show up by himself, so Gerhard quickly said Jean Alesi would be there too. Alain trusted Jean, them being ex teammates and all. Gerhard may or may not have told Jean about Ayrton’s little crush on the Frenchman, but Jean had been pushy about the whole purpose of the meeting and Gerhard couldn’t deny Jean and his handsome smirk even if he tried. (He won’t go down that rabbit hole about Jean and his pretty dark eyes, he was on a mission for his good friend Ayrton at the moment.)

And then bizarrely, Alain showed up with his Williams teammate Damon because he was so convinced that Gerhard was going to prank him, and Damon invited his friend and fellow Brit Johnny, who even more bizarrely brought along his own teammate Mika Hakkinen who really took the cake in terms of bizarreness by bringing his girlfriend’s, or now ex girlfriend’s, suitcase of clothes. 

And they got drunk and someone opened the suitcase and started flipping through the clothes and then an argument broke out about who could and couldn’t fit into the clothes and then they settled on the two shortest drivers who would definitely fit into the clothes. 

That being Alain and Jean. Jean was quite enthusiastic about the idea but Alain less so but after one or five vodka shots in his body, he didn’t manage to fend off Gerhard and Jean before he was unceremoniously stripped down to his boxers. Mika was helpfully setting aside entire outfits he remembered his ex girlfriend would put together and Jean put on his outfit without hesitation. Alain needed more coaxing which led them to where they were now, two drunk Brits, a gleeful Finn, two Frenchmen in dresses and the Austrian mastermind, looking at the very tired and very annoyed Brazilian standing in the doorway. 

“Alain, you look prettier than my girlfriend!” Mika cheered, jostling the almost asleep Johnny on his shoulder. 

Alain glares at the Finn, a furious blush spreading from his face, down his neck and chest. He was wearing a backless blue sundress, the thin straps hanging off his bony shoulders and crossing over his back. The hem of the dress just barely stopped at mid thigh, the soft fabric hugging Alain body in the most enticing way. Sure the chest area is a little...flat and empty but it just sagged a little to reveal more of Alain’s flushed chest and oh dear god Alain was smooth. Did he wax? Does he wax usually? Ayrton’s brain felt like it was melting. 

Gerhard saw Ayrton staring and he cheerily pushed Ayrton closer towards Alain. 

“You look...nice.” Ayrton stammered. 

Alain rubbed his hands over his face and sighed, “Please don’t mock me and make this worse.” 

“No really, you look good. If you were a girl, I would ask you out.”

“Ayrton, I get it. I am in a dress, ha ha very funny.” 

“Even if you weren’t a girl, I would still ask you out.” Ayrton babbled and a hush fell upon the room.

Alain stared at him, bug eyed with his mouth opening and shutting silently. Mika looked like he was having the time of his life, sitting upright so fast that the sleeping Johnny slipped off his shoulder and hit his head on the wall. Jean stopped trying to climb into Gerhard’s lap for fun to stare at Ayrton and Alain. 

“That’s it, I’m leaving.” Damon announced, “Johnny come on. Mika, help me carry him.” 

The trio shuffled their way out of the door. Mika waved one last time at the group and shut the door behind him. 

“Let’s go Jean,” Gerhard suggested and Jean snorted at him. 

“Where? This is your room.”

“Of course we are going to  _ your  _ room.” 

“I can’t walk out like that!” 

Gerhard grumbled “Drama queen” under his breath as he grabbed the bed sheets and draped it over Jean’s shoulders. Then grabbing Jean’s original (male) clothes, he shoved Jean out of the room and the door shut behind them, leaving only Ayrton and Alain in the room. 

“You like men in dresses?” Alain asked with a raised judgmental brow. 

“What no! I like you in a dress. Or no dress. I just like you.” Ayrton’s heart was pounding so hard that he felt it against his ribcage. 

Alain frowned at that and put up his hands, “Wait, this is a serious conversation and I cannot have it dressed like this.” 

He ignored Ayrton’s reply of “I don’t mind it.” and searched for his clothes but the damn Austrian must have accidentally (or not) made off with it with Jean’s clothes. He turns around to see Ayrton had found the bathrobe in the bathroom and was currently holding it out towards him. Alain took it thankfully and started stripping off the dress. The Brazilian’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he turned away, the tips of his ears red. Alain rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t be dramatic, you have seen me shirtless before. We are both men.” 

He slipped on the bathrobe and crossed his arms as he sat down on the bed. He looked at Ayrton expectantly. Taking a deep breath, Ayrton walked towards him and took one of Alain's hands gently. He cradled it tenderly and whispered, “I know we had our fights and the history between us. I won’t pretend that I was a good person, and I have hurt you greatly. But I missed you Alain, when you were gone for a year. The grid felt very empty and then I realised, so was my heart. I’m asking you to give me another chance.” 

He looked up and Alain was smiling at him. He smiled back. 


End file.
